


Blind Spot

by kihophoric



Series: Floating On Air [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Driving, Jooheon Bingo, M/M, Radio, rated teen only for the cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 17:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19067368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kihophoric/pseuds/kihophoric
Summary: Jooheon wondered if it was possible to fall in love with a voice over the radio.





	Blind Spot

**Author's Note:**

> for the "radio show host" square of the unique AUs jooheon bingo

The static from the radio spiked as he fiddled with the dial. Jooheon winced, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

 

A jingle of an advertisement finally pushed the noise aside. He leaned his head against the backrest and breathed through his mouth so as to not inhale too much of the residual smoke from the rental car.

 

The ad ended and made way for a single, familiar voice.

 

"'Sup," it drawled.

 

Jooheon could pull out the voice from anywhere. He'd been a regular listener of this little-known FM radio station for months now, after all. The deep timbre and the fluidity of the radio DJ's voice became a constant during Jooheon's daily rush hour. It put him at ease. At the same time, the radio segment energized him, shaking him by the shoulders and waking him up.

 

"Alright, assholes, strap yourselves in 'cause I'm pissed today."

 

See, that was the thing about this DJ. He simply didn't give a fuck. Not about the family-friendliness of other stations that attracted sponsorships, and not about garnering listeners with bland and generic shit like the latest pop culture news, not even about making it a whole thing to get listeners to call in and pretending to humor them. He really just talked about himself, and honestly, he didn't exactly have a thrilling life. But there was just something to his delivery and tone that _was_ thrilling. If he could, Jooheon would listen to him talk all day.

 

He wondered if it was possible to fall in love with a voice.

 

"My car insurance is garbage, I tell you. Absolute shit. They claim they got your ass covered but when you call 'em up for help, they give you the fucking finger."

 

Jooheon drummed against his leg as he waited for the stoplight. He thanked his stars that he wasn't turned down by his insurance after yesterday's accident. His car was his baby. Despite its busted up second-hand state, he would've probably (definitely) cried if any harm came to it under his ownership. Although, to be frank, they could've afforded to spend just a _bit_ more on the rental fees than the crappy box he temporarily ended up with.

 

"So yesterday, I'm walking back to the parking lot after work, right? And what do I see, but Mr. Perfect. If you aren’t, like, one of the four people who regularly listen to my segment, let me introduce this man. Mr. Perfect is the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on in my entire fucking life."

 

Jooheon wondered what kind of man could impress the DJ. He seemed so confident, so sure of himself. And if Jooheon could judge from the voice alone, he was probably intimidatingly beautiful. Maybe Mr. Perfect was some kind of superhuman, just exuding charisma from his pores. The DJ didn’t talk about Mr. Perfect often, on those rare occasions. He was apparently a friend of a friend, and the DJ had never brought up the courage to speak to him.

 

"Okay, but here's the catch: Mr. Perfect sticking a lil' post-it onto my windshield. You know why? Because he had fucking rammed into my car."

 

Jooheon nearly collided with a truck in the next lane. He righted up immediately, cursing and out of breath. What are the odds that Jooheon had found himself at the exact same position the day before?

 

"My poor, beat-up ol' Mazda got rammed in. Got a big ol' dent straight down the center of the bumper. If the guy was anyone else I'd have marched right up and given him a piece of me. Words only, mind you, I’m a pacifist. But I was damn near rooted to the spot. All because he was so fucking _gorgeous_."

 

He lived in a big city, Jooheon reasoned with himself. And there are plenty of incidents involving fender benders and post-its. And the model the DJ mentioned wasn’t exactly uncommon, either. Jooheon laughed shortly. It’s just him and his big ol’ head linking this all with himself.

 

“Right. So here I am now, with Mr. Perfect’s number in front of me and like, theoretically, I could save some serious bucks if I just called him up to get this insurance claim sorted out. But I’m a fucking wimp and that pisses me off.”

 

Involuntarily, Jooheon glanced at his phone perched on the dashboard holder.

 

“This is prolly the part where I ask y’all to call in and tell me your opinion or some shit. But I frankly don’t give a fuck about what some third-party asshat has to say.” A long sigh was released from the car’s speakers, and Jooheon echoed it. “I just need some time to think, alright?”

 

Jooheon pulled up to his apartment but kept the engine running, fidgeting with the keys. After a long pause, the DJ cleared his throat.

 

“Fuck it. I’m calling him. So here’s a song or whatever.”

 

The phone’s display lit up with an incoming call and Jooheon screamed, smacking his mouth to shut up. After taking several shaky breaths, he turned off the radio and slid the call button to talk.

 

“Hello?” Jooheon spoke hesitantly.

 

“‘Sup,” a familiar voice responded.


End file.
